through all the shadowy corners of me
by dharkephoenyx
Summary: She's broken but no one knows how to fix her. He'll love her because he knows that's the only way for her to heal herself. AU. Finchel love, Cherry & Pezberry friendships. M for Santana's potty mouth and some citrusy encounters..


**Another story that's been hanging around on my computer. Unbeta'd (I really should find one) and all mine, well, except for Finn and Rachel of course.. and Mike, and Tina and Santana and Puck and Sam, and Mercedes. Gah. Angst, and some darkness.. ooc Rachel, loveable Finn and snarky Santana with all-knowing and wise Mike.**

**Disclaimer: Glee is not mine. But I own the DVDs and the soundtracks :)**

* * *

She walks into the bar, eyes scanning the room for her best friend. She doesn't see him, so she makes her way to the counter, closing her palm around a rum and coke when the bartender slides it over. She nods, turns her back to him and surveys the room, nothing else to do but wait.

:::

He sees her as soon as she walks in. She doesn't look out of place, but she doesn't look like she belongs either. She's small, if not for the fact that she's in a bar, he'd mistake her for a teenager. Notwithstanding, she practically commands the room, her eyes sweeping around briefly before she walks to the bar, legs enclosed in skin-tight black jeans, boots to her thighs and her hair tucked under a leather jacket.

She greets the bartender, the man's smile broad as he fixes her drink, nodding over to the stage. She turns, shrugging out of her jacket and throws it behind the bar as she settles on a stool, her fingers tapping against her leg.

"Yo."

He looks up to see Puck and Sam dropping onto the seats opposite him. They bump fists and Puck wolf-whistles over a waitress.

"Good to see you in town, Hudson. You planning on sticking around?" Sam asks.

He shrugs, his eyes going back to the petite brunette sitting at the bar. "I may need some incentive."

:::

"Berry!"

She doesn't need to look around to know Santana has just walked into the bar. She tosses back her drink and motions for another one, twisting around on her chair just as Mike engulfs her in a hug.

"Thanks for coming back to the land of the living," he murmurs in her ear as he kisses her hair. Right as he releases her, Santana grabs hold.

"Jesus fuck, woman! Are you married to your job or something?"

Rachel laughs, Santana likes to overact. But it's true, she's been working too hard and when her boss suggested (demanded) she take a few days off, she conceded. Mike was happy enough to meet her for drinks after.

"Yea, well. I'm here. Stop reminding me."

"Great! Drinks on me." Santana turns to the bartender and slaps the bar a couple times shouting over the din that she needs a couple beers and some tequila shots.

She meets Mike's eyes and just shakes her head. She's not going to drink too much tonight and Santana can and will get out of hand if someone doesn't watch her. Two drinks is her limit, so she takes the beer, resting back on her elbows as she catches up with her friends. Movement from the corner of her eye alerts her to a table of men sitting to her right. A blond, a guy with a Mohawk and a tall broad-shouldered man knocking back beers and laughing loudly.

The last man turns his head in her direction, tilting his beer towards her before it touches his lips. She smiles, turns back to her conversation with her two friends, grateful that her hair and the darkness in the bar will help to hide her blush.

:::

"Do you know her?" Finn leans over and points his beer towards the woman sitting at the bar between the Latina and Asian man. She's grinning, her smile wide as she listens to whatever her friends are saying.

"Dude. I haven't fucked every woman in New York," Puck growls. He turns to look at the woman Finn points out. "Whoa. Who's the hottie?"

Sam chuckles at the glare Finn throws at the other man.

"Dude, she's hot. Like grade-A fuckable. Small enough to fit in the palm of my hand, Jesus, look at her ass. _OW_!" his beer spills as he jerks backward from Finn's foot kicking him under the table.

"Shut the fuck up asshole."

He looks back over at the woman, and she's bending over bar to grab a bottle from the Latina woman who'd managed to crawl over the bar half-door.

He'd caught her eye earlier. Now he wants to know her name.

:::

_My heart is like an open highway  
Like Frankie said  
I did it my way  
I just wanna live while I'm alive  
It's my life_

She finishes the song back to back with Santana, grinning at the applause from the crowd. It's been forever since she's done this – just having fun. Singing. Hanging out. If there is one complaint she has in her life is that she doesn't do too much of it.

The brun from the trio of men is whooping the loudest as they make their way off stage and the one with the Mohawk grabs hold of Santana, pulling her onto his lap as he tries to whisper whatever in her ear. Santana laughs and pushes herself off his lap, but does take the chair beside him. She can't just leave her there, so she nods to the other men then waves Mike over.

"Gentlemen. Apparently, we're joining your table," she smirks, nodding over at Santana and her new friend.

The blond leans over and offers his hand. "Sam. That clown over there making a fool of himself is Puck." He points over at the man beside Santana.

His friend does the same, his grin wide as he looks at her. "Finn. You were pretty great on stage."

"Thanks. I'm Rach. That," she points at the Latina who is currently not paying them any mind, "is Santana and this is Mike." Mike walks over with beers and water, shoving one in Santana's hand. He nods at them.

She settles in the chair beside Finn, leaving space for Mike to pull another chair over. He's cute, she decides. Good distraction.

"So, you guys from around here?"

:::

He's at the bar, getting the next round of beers. He looks over at the table and Rach isn't there. His eyes search the crowd until he sees her near the backroom by the payphones, cellphone at her ear. All he knows is that she's from Brooklyn, she and Mike work together and that Santana is a lawyer. Puck's quite taken with her friend and she found it 'sweet' that they were all classmates from OSU looking to settle in New York. Sweet?

She finishes her phone call and drops her forehead against the wall. He walks over towards her, curious as to what's the matter.

He calls out to her softly, watching her eyes as she turns around and looks at him. A flash of silver by her belt distracts him but then she's on him, her hands hot on his face as she presses her lips against his. He stumbles back against the opposite wall his brain momentarily scattered as heat washes over him. His hands move to her waist, gripping tightly as he hoists her up, her legs wrapping around his waist and he flips them, her back pressed against the wall.

"_Fuck_," she moans.

"Sorry," he murmurs, nipping at her jaw as his hands disappear under her shirt. Her head drops back and she whimpers as his fingers pass over her breasts, moving her mouth back to his.

She grinds her lower body against him, sucking on his tongue with her fingers tight in his hair. He moans as his nails scrape against her skin, pinching her nipples hard as she bites down unto his bottom lip.

"Shit," he breathes, his pants uncomfortably tight as her body pushes against his.

She seems to realize where they are, his name is soft on her lips as her hands push against his chest. He steps back reluctantly, letting her down gently and brushes his hand over his hair, trying to get his body to calm down. She's still too close.

"Ah. Wow." He steps away, his back touching the opposite wall as he looks at her. She adjusts her shirt, combing her fingers through her hair as she smirks at him.

"Give me your phone." He hands it over watching as she keys in number and name then hands it back. Her hand is small in his, fingers delicate, palm rough, no ring. He bends to meet her lips when she steps closer to him, winks then walks away.

:::

She waits until Finn comes back to the table with drinks.

"So, I hate to ditch, but I've got to go." Finn's face falls as he watches her, his beer still at his lips. Santana scowls. "Berry, you work too fucking much."

"You're going to work now?" Sam asks, checking his watch. "It's almost 3am."

She shrugs. She didn't want to go back to work. She was supposed to be on vacation, however rare those get.

Finn's eyes are watching her closely and she can see he's curious to ask.

"I'll take Santana home," Mike says. She nods.

"I don't mind," Puck offers hastily.

"No, dick. You aren't going anywhere," Finn scoffs, his eyes hard. Puck glares.

"We should do this again." She smiles at them. "When I have time and can promise not to run away." She gets up, tugging her shirt down, noticing Finn's eyes looking at her hip.

She touches Santana's arm. "Come on beauty. You'll thank me in the morning."

"No. I'll hate you in the morning. The fuck you going back to work for? You're ditching your friend's for the job. Again." Santana stands up, her hands on her hips as Mike hovers close by.

"Cmon San. Lay off. Let's go home." Mike's hand is firm on his friend's hand. Santana isn't drunk, yet, but she speaks the truth no matter what.

"You need a ride?" Finn pipes up.

She shakes her head. "Nah, it's cool. My bike's outside." She winks at him, waves at the others at the table then goes back to the bar, grabs her jacket and San and Mike's, leading them outside. Away from her distraction.

:::

She's asleep in the locker room when Mike comes in, kicking her cot to wake her.

"What?"

"We have a lead. At least, I think we do. I managed to get a trace on the burned phone, we might know where the girls are."

She's up and following behind Mike through the squad room towards the tech room, her eyes glued to the file he hands her.

"Didn't I send you home?" she pauses at the harsh voice of her Captain. She pivots, facing the intimidating woman. The woman's a harpy, takes no bullshit and a hardass to everyone who works for her. She's also the worst mother hen in the department, and women tend to run away when she speaks. Not Rachel though; they've bumped heads since day one and have come to some mutual respect for each other.

"Yea. We got a lead."

"Give it to Anderson and St. James. I sent you home Berry. You're running on fumes. I'd prefer if you take care of yourself before you run yourself down. You're no good to me dead."

"Captain, seriously. If Mike has found the location of his hideout we can have those girls home by tonight," she protests.

Captain Sylvester nods, but her face remains impassive as she gestures to the folder in her hands. "Give it here. Anderson and Chang will figure out our next move. Sleep. When we find something I'll send St. James to come get you. Don't let me have to send you home again Detective."

Her captain is gone before she can protest and the two detectives shrug as they follow Mike towards his office. She drags her feet back to the locker room, falling onto the cot as her eyes close again.

:::

He wants to call her as soon as he wakes up. He didn't think there was anything wrong with calling the same day but Sam was shoving him out the door for a job interview and before he knows it, it's almost 6pm.

He doesn't know what job Rach has that calls her in at 3am but he's leaning towards one of two: doctor or cop. The latter is quite far-fetched and he's really hoping it's the first, but, you never know. He taps his finger against his coffee cup as he waits for her to pick up.

"_Berry_."

She sounds even sexier on the phone.

"Hey. It's Finn. We met the other night?"

There's a beat of silence then chuckling.

"_Hi. Sorry I had to ditch so quick. Something came up." _Her voice is husky, apologetic._ "How bout I make it up to you?"_

He's intrigued. "What do you have in mind?"

"_Dinner. Beer. Maybe a movie,_" She laughs.

"Sounds good. When?"

Someone calls out to her and she curses. "_Ah, how bout I call you as soon as I can? I hate to run again, but_."

"Sure, Rach. Gimme a call when you're free. I look forward to it."

She chuckles huskily again. "_I'll call you soon Finn_." Then she's gone.

He drops his phone onto Sam's coffee table, folding his body onto the couch. Today seemed to be a good day so far. He got a job, he talked a pretty girl into going out with him and chances were, he'd be moving into his own place soon. Not that he doesn't like living with his frat brother. But Sam's girlfriend is loud. But she can cook. He reminds himself to find a gym soon.

...

Things were back at a standstill on her case. The burner was just a dead end and she only had bruised knuckles and a splitting headache as proof for the past week. She was tired, and basically running on empty. She grabs her jacket and nods to Anderson, stopping by Chang's desk in their office to tell him he'd find her at home.

She crawls into bed at 5:30am. She doesn't even bother showering. She pulls off her clothes, places her gun under the pillow and lays down. Images of an amber-eyed giant lull her to sleep. Common sense told her to not get involved with the man, not yet, not yet when she was this close and yet so far. But Finn Hudson was attractive, and he'd serve as a well-deserved distraction from the horrors of her life. He was a step up from the usual low-lifes who usually shared her bed. On more than one occasion Mike had had to step in and run interference when someone tried to stick around too long. She was small, and she kicked ass, but none of those men had to know that.

She promises herself she'd call Finn as soon as she was free to.

:::

Rachel Berry was a woman with no complications. At least, that's how she seemed to appear. She was fun, loud, hated cussing, didn't eat meat, was a closeted Green Bay Packers fan and had impeccable table manners.

She also carried a gun. Detective Berry.

He couldn't see it. The woman was 5, 3" and 100lbs on a good day. She was intimidating yes, but he couldn't see her running down bad guys and shoving them against walls. Her eyes were as brown as chocolate but haunted, like there was something, what he couldn't put his finger on, and he didn't like it.

Oh, she also drove a black Ducati superbike with pink stripes.

She pulls up to a side café and his pants get marginally tighter as he stares at her. She smirks at him as she tugs off her helmet and sits at the table across from him. He can see her badge, the silver glinting in the sunlight when she unzips her jacket, dropping it onto the seat beside her.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but you're basically every man's walking wet dream right now," he murmurs and doesn't feel the need to cover his crotch when she throws back her head and laughs, her neck bare in a v-neck white t-shirt.

"That's a new one," she chuckles.

Puck would be so proud of him. He manages to keep his eyes on her face for the rest of dinner, and it's not hard, she really is beautiful. Smile wide, teeth white and blinding, she jokes and teases and it's a fun evening. He doesn't want it to end. They make plans to meet again, and he thinks he'll have a chance to wonder why her eyes don't smile when her mouth does.

:::

She goes through the motions of the next three months like she's gone through the past eight years. She goes to work, she goes to the bar with Mike and Santana then she goes home. But she goes home alone. She likes Finn, she realizes and he's proving to be a very good distraction but he's one of those good boys from the Midwest and she's yet to get him in bed.

"And you're sure he's not gay?" Santana quips. "Because Puck sure as hell isn't," she grins wickedly.

Tina, Mike's fiancée since forever, tosses peanuts over at the woman. "Behave. Rachel's not a slut."

"As opposed to you maybe. You've only had one dick the past five years. Least you can do is take if off the market officially so other women don't feel the need to try and get it." She nods behind them where Mike is at the bar, a woman on either side of him blatantly flirting. He ignores them.

She smirks with her friends. "No, Finn's not gay. I don't think. He likes to stare at my chest though."

"You don't _have_ any chest to stare at Berry. Maybe if you'd wear something besides pants and show that ass a little dude will be begging to get all up in that goodness."

Santana has never been one for subtlety. How she happens to be one of the top junior lawyers in NYC she'll never understand.

"Maybe Finn is a one of those good guys. They still exist you know." Mike sits down beside her, tossing a bag of peanuts in her lap.

"Just make sure his dick works when you do get it up in bed," Santana grins again.

"Oh, would you stop!" Tina laughs.

She's not exactly a good girl though, so maybe she'll never get the good guy.

:::

He loves New York, he really does. It's loud, disgusting and full of life.

And people get up to a lot of dumb shit, so he has little free time as a paramedic. It wasn't something he saw himself doing after college but a degree in communications went for shit nowadays, so he takes what he can get. He also figured he may catch a glimpse of Rach now and then. He hasn't yet.

He calls her up to come over with Santana and the guys to his housewarming to the little studio he managed to find after five months in the city, it's not much, but it has a bedroom and a pull-out bed so if his brother or parents decide to come visit, he has somewhere to stay besides putting them in a hotel. And Kurt, well, Kurt's a diva, he'd stay in a hotel no matter what.

It's pizza and beer with some cookies and cupcakes that Rachel and Santana bring by. They live in the same complex, two doors from each other, and he realizes while he likes the Latina, she's almost as scary as Rachel.

"Berry baked. Your sugar orgasm is guaranteed." She shoves the box in his hands when he opens the door, Rachel behind her, hand crossed over her chest as she hides her laughter.

"You bake?"

She hands him her jacket and he forces himself to look away. She's in jeans shorts and a vest top over a long t-shirt. She looks gorgeous, even more petite if possible but her legs, his daydreams do not do them justice.

"My dads taught me. I don't do much of it now, but it's a great stress reliever." She says it like a promise so he nods, swallows uncomfortably and turns away, handing her a beer as he ushers her to join the party.

Mike shows up with his fiancée, and more beer. Rachel's partner is cool. He's a pretty good dancer, a genius on Battlefield 3 and he wonders why the guy is a technical specialist instead of a lawyer, he went to school with Santana after all.

Sam and Mercedes are playing some drinking game and Santana joins in and then Puck, and then Tina and it's just him, Mike and Rachel as the sober ones at the party. It's fun, and he has more info to blackmail Puck for the rest of his life.

They start leaving one by one, Rachel staying behind him to toss empty cups, paper plates and pieces of pizza into the garbage.

Somehow her lips end up on his and they're naked on his couch until they stumble towards his bed and she's chanting his name as she falls over in a flurry of heated moans and scratch marks.

He falls asleep with her in his arms, he remembers that much, but when he wakes up to the sunshine, she's long gone.

:::

They find the unsub's hideout. And the dead bodies of two of his victims.

She goes home and drinks her weight in vodka until Santana screams obscenities at her in Spanish then spends the night and the majority of the next few days hunched over the toilet while Santana rubs her back and tells her it's not her fault.

If not hers, then whose is it?

Two weeks later someone calls in a tip and they're ten minutes late to his next hideout to find he's already moved on. She was this close, and she can see that he's getting sloppy. She adds more information to her whiteboard and goes to visit her fathers.

:::

He just got in, kicking his shoes off and just collapsing on the bed. Not soon after his head hits the pillow someone's knocking at his door. He groans into the pillow then gets up, scratching his jaw as he opens the door.

She's leaning on the wall opposite his door. She dressed in boots and a long jacket, cinched at the waist. She has a bottle in one hand and her car keys and phone in the other. He steps aside and lets her walk in, falling back against the door when she does.

She drops everything on the couch and turns to him. He blinks the sleep from his eyes as her jacket falls away. She's naked. Just her boots and jacket and every step she takes towards him his body gets harder.

They don't make it to the bedroom.

When he wakes up in the morning, he's covered with a blanket, a note resting on the sofa.

And she's not there.

:::

It's a rare day off for her and Santana drags her to Central Park, complaining she needs out of the office before she kills someone. They settle against a tree eating snow cones when her phone rings. Before she can answer, Santana grabs it.

"Berry's busy," she snaps. She's really hoping it's the station.

"Finnocence! How's it hanging sexy?"

Whatever Finn says to Santana has her cracking up and then she's inviting him to come down and keep their company. She tells him to pull Puck out the door if he's not working.

She spends the day in Central Park grinning and laughing as Finn teases her about a yellow top she's wearing.

"I thought you only had black, white and grey in your wardrobe. My brother would love you. He'd arrest you for crimes against fashion and colour." His eyes twinkle and his mouth pulls up with a half-smile that sets butterflies in her stomach. She happens to like the look on him. She hasn't had one of these days in a while. She's glad for it.

She goes home to a message on her machine. He tells her she looked pretty in yellow and the next body she finds will be dressed just like that.

She doesn't go drinking then. Mike finds her in the squad room with three empty cups of coffee on her table and another in her hand. She's staring at the whiteboard in their office with murder in her eyes.

:::

He doesn't see her for two weeks.

He calls, sends her texts, asks Puck to ask Santana what was going on. Santana calls him and tells him that Rachel has some shit to sort out and as soon as she pulls her head out of her ass she'll figure out a way to cater to his ego. He tells her to go fuck herself and hangs up.

:::

Finn somehow manages to convince her to meet him for lunch. She's been annoying her captain, as usual, so she decides to meet him before she heads home to sleep for a while. They meet at a café near her apartment, and he hugs her close, burying his face into her neck as he practically lifts her off her feet.

She giggles as he sets her back down. He's a really attractive distraction. Something tugs at her that maybe he's more than just a distraction, but she pushes it down, away from her, she'll think about it later.

"You look like crap."

"Gee, thanks Finn. Way to ease into it."

He scoffs and settles back into his chair, his knees brushing against hers. "Yea, well. Looking like an extra from a Tim Burton movie, there's really no other way to describe it."

His brow goes up like he's challenging her to disagree but she sighs, rubbing her hands over her face as she slinks down into the chair. "I know. I know. I'm heading home to sleep for ten days if I'm lucky. My captain keeps threatening to kick me off the case."

He nods slowly, his eyes curious. His eyes are always curious and she thinks maybe she'll just tell him someday.

The waitress comes over to takes their order and he raises an eyebrow at her order of water and a salad. He just stares.

"Fine. Can I have a tofu burger and onion rings please?"

Finn grins broadly, sending the waitress away with his order of a double cheeseburger and extra cheese fries. He winks at her as she sips her water. "It's nice to see you eat food for a change."

She scowls at him. "I eat. Santana and Mike are always shoving food down my throat," he chuckles.

"They're just taking care of you. Since you refuse to take care of yourself." She doesn't answer, playing with the napkin on the table in front her. It's quiet as they wait, and when the waitress returns with the food, she practically inhales it, she's that hungry.

"Want me to drop you home?" he asks when they're finished. She stretches and shakes her head, her hand flying to her mouth when a very unladylike belch escapes.

"Crap. I'm sorry." She tries to apologize but Finn is laughing too hard to listen to her. She's tempted to throw the glass of water at him to shut him up but his laugh is infectious and she can't exactly keep the smile off her face as she watches him.

She hears the shots before she sees the couple beside her fall to the floor. Finn grabs her arm and drags her down with him but she rolls out of the fall, her gun pulled from the holster at her hip and the safety clicked off as she turns in the direction of the car driving by.

More gunshots fly over her head and people are screaming around her as she tries to focus on the car speeding away. She gets up and runs after it, firing two in the rear window and one in the bumper before it turns the corner out of sight.

She's pulling her phone out, shouting out the plate numbers to Mike over the phone. "I hope we're lucky enough the son of a bitch didn't steal that car!"

She runs back to the crowd of people and Finn is crouching down beside the man, barking directions at a waitress kneeling over the woman screaming beside them.

"Keep pressure on her shoulder!" He turns his attention to the man lying on the floor beneath him, the smell of sweat and blood heavy in the air. His shirt is in pieces wrapped around his hand and pressing hard into the wailing man's side.

She pulls out her radio again, staring at the man moaning on the ground. "Mike, send a bus, we've got two down, male and female. GSW to the shoulder on the female, to the abdomen for the male."

Finn eyes her gun before he looks up at her, eyes hard, face tight. "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine." She looks over the woman then gets up, pulling her shirt back so it's tucked behind her badge, looking back towards where the car drove off to, listening to sirens approaching in the distance.

She glances back at Finn and he's staring at her with that questioning look in his eyes. He wants to come to her, she knows, but she can't deal with any distractions now. And that's all he is, a distraction. And she nearly got him killed.

:::

He goes through the silent treatment again. He doesn't bother calling this time. He has an idea what's going on with her but she's doesn't really talk, and he can't get her to talk.

So.

:::

She's at their bar with Mike when he walks in.

With some blonde. She and Mike exchange looks.

"You want to go?"

She shakes her head. She and Finn aren't together. He's free to do whatever he wants to do. So him and some blonde tramp in her bar won't get to her.

She's not surprised that he watches her entire night. She can feel him looking at her, but he never comes over and talks to her. She and Mike sing a few songs together, the crowd is loud and singing along and she walks back to the bar for another drink, elbows on the wood.

She frowns as the blonde Finn is sitting with goes up to the mic, her voice nasally and sweet as she starts singing one of Michael Jackson's older songs and she'd like to say the woman doesn't sound good when she's borderline incredible so she glares at Mike when he starts whistling at her on stage.

"She's good."

"Finn doesn't look happy."

"You're being an asshole."

Mike gets bored of the one-sided conversation and turns his attention back to the stage where someone else is singing a Sisquo song. She doesn't look over at Finn's table and he uses a waitress to get his drinks. Still, she can see the way Mike keeps looking at Finn and then at her and she's annoyed so she goes to the bathroom before she tells him they should go.

She is surprised though when she comes out of the bathroom and he's standing right outside the door. They stand and stare at each other for a few seconds before Finn has her in his arms, legs wrapped around his hips, up against the wall in one of the cubicles in the ladies' room.

His hand is hot on her skin under her bra and her lips are suctioned onto his neck and she moans when he pulls away from her, then drops his hands and lets her back onto the ground.

"Not like this, Rach," he murmurs. "Find me when you want to talk." He kisses her again then just leaves.

:::

He finds her in his apartment about a week after the whole thing in the bar. She's sitting on the floor beside his couch her head in her hands. He sits beside her on the couch in silence for about twenty minutes.

She gets up and leaves, stopping at the door to look at him before closing it behind her.

:::

So Mike and Tina _finally_ get married.

And of course Tina puts her in a bridesmaid dress from hell. Well, Santana is in one too, and that woman is a walking porn billboard, so she decides it's not too horrid.

"I know you hate that dress Rach. Told you you should have been my best man," Mike grins at her.

She laughs and looks over at him, Tina tucked under his arm. "Yea, and have Tina go all bridezilla on me? No dude, you waited six years for the perfect day. It went off just the way you both wanted it."

"Yea, and maybe one day you can make Tina suffer for this travesty she calls a dress." Santana glares as her fingers pull at the taffeta she's wearing.

She ignores that.

The best man taps his glass for a speech and she twists back in her chair and her eyes meet with Finn's. He's just staring at her, sitting comfortably and easily at a table for guests of the groom. She hasn't spoken to him since the night at the bar, and hasn't seen him the night she broke into his apartment.

He tilts his glass to her before taking a sip. She pulls her eyes away to try and focus as Matt jokes about knowing Mike too long. She needs the distraction.

:::

He's surprised to see her in his apartment. Well, not really.

She was sitting cross-legged on his dad's recliner, in the dark, hands folded in her lap, staring at him. He drops his duffel inside the door and walks over to the fridge because any conversation he's going to have with Rach requires alcohol.

She still hasn't moved when he walks back to the room. "Why are you here Rach?"

She flicks the light on.

Her eyes are tired, bloodshot and weary when they flicker to his. And he hates it.

She shrugs, her shoulders looking frail in her t-shirt. Then she grips the edge and pulls it over her head, then reaches up and gathers her hair off her neck.

Her skin is the same olive tone he remembers. Smooth and he wants to walk over and touch her.

There's a scar on her belly, to the right, towards her hip, a nasty welt that's paler in comparison to the rest of her. He doesn't remember that.

She turns her neck and there's another scar the length of her neck, just behind her ear.

He tries to remember why he's never seen or felt them before.

"I can't be with anyone. Not until these are fully healed," she whispers, turning her eyes back to him.

He doesn't understand. The scars look more than healed, for years even.

"Rach? What are you talking about?"

She gets up and walks over to him, putting her hands on his chest. She kisses the space over his heart and steps behind him.

She leaves before he can stop her and he punches the wall beside the door a few times until his knuckles are raw and bruised. His landlord will have a fit when he sees that. He strips his clothes as he walks to the bathroom, and he wonders if he can burn away the entire day.

He doesn't know what else to do about the woman. There are too many layers to peel away and she refuses to let him help.

:::

She and Mike pull apart the whiteboard. They start from scratch. Blaine and Jesse comes over to help and together they crawl through all the evidence the case has amassed in the past eleven years, she's only been on the case for four, but she's more intimately versed in the finer details of this particular case and she won't give up until she has him behind bars.

She doesn't talk to Finn, she can't right now.

:::

He goes to her apartment. Knocks on Santana's door until she lets him in.

She's still sleeping, and her apartment is a mess. So he cleans up, cooks spaghetti and pasta, makes a salad and sits in her living room and watches the game. She comes out a little while later, dressed in a NYPD t-shirt and shorts and sits beside him on the couch, food in her lap. He sits there a bit longer until he needs to go to work, kisses her forehead and lets himself out.

They repeat this for about a month, he varies the menu, all vegetarian depending on what she has in her fridge. Though they never use words, the silence speaks volumes.

:::

She finds something. Something they missed before. Something she's damned glad to find. And something that just might make her days ahead just a little bit easier.

:::

Mike calls him.

He's standing downstairs when Finn gets to Rach's apartment, even though its snowing outside. Before he leaves Mike turns to him and gives him a picture.

It's Rach. A younger version with him and Tina wearing uniforms as they sing on stage. She looks happy, the way she always looks when she sings. The way she looks when he pushes her over the edge. The look on her face just before she falls asleep. He looks up at the man.

"That's the woman upstairs. That's the woman you're in love with. She may not look it on the outside, but listen to her, and you'll see that woman in front of you."

They shake hands and Mike leaves, hailing a cab to escape the cold wetness falling. He goes upstairs and she's lying on her couch, her face wet. He goes over and scoops her up in his arms, walking with her to her bedroom. He lets her cry against his shoulder for a while and later in the night he wakes up to her lips all over him.

:::

She's not there when they bring him in. She goes with Mike to the hospital and interviews the thirteen women he'd held captive for too many days. Raped, beaten, tortured, she sits and listens to every single one, hearing every word they speak, answering every question they ask.

She gives them each her card and tells them to call her if there is anything they need. She lets them cry in her arms, her body small in comparison to all of them, but she carries more heart in hers because she's been where there are now and she survived.

She slaps palms with the other detectives in the squad room when she gets back, her forehead pressed against Mike's for a long time.

She doesn't even mind her captain's snark this time.

"Go home, Berry. Don't let me have to tell you again."

"Yes captain," She smirks at the woman's retreating back.

:::

She's curled into his side, skin smooth and soft as she sleeps. His finger trails the scar on her belly, and he bites back the anger he feels every time he sees it. He has to go into work, but he's reluctant to leave because there's a beautiful woman in his bed. She stirs, her body stretching along his, and he turns so her back is pressing into him. He bends to kiss her shoulder, his nose skimming along her skin until his lips settle over the tattoo inked there.

"Finn." Her voice is soft, she's barely awake but her skin gets hotter under his touch. His hand slips between her legs, skin silky and wet as he presses his finger to her warmth. She arches her back as a low moan slips from her lips and her hand joins his.

His lips move over her skin, sucking and nipping as her body moves against his and when she pushes back, his hips push forward and his body slides into hers. His fingers brush against the skin at her stomach, over her scar, stroking upwards to her breast, and her fingers join his again, pinching and pulling at her nipple while he moves inside her.

Her hair is wet against her neck, but he settles his lips there, peppering kisses and whispering the words she refuses to share with him. _I love you._ He says it between his kisses and her moans and when her body shatters around him, he breathes them into her skin as she pulls him over with her.

She looks at him over her shoulder, her lips pulled up into a smile. "Hi."

"Hey."

She turns in his arms, her face still flushed and kisses him, licking the sweat from his lips and burying her fingers in his hair.

When she pulls away, he holds onto her waist. He knows she's going to leave. She never stays through the night.

"You have work, Finn."

"I'll stay in if you do," he mumbles, burying his head into her chest. She laughs, pats his back and slips out of his arms.

He watches her as she moves towards the bathroom, her steps light and sure as she walks. He gets up and follows her, slipping behind her in the shower and she laughs, turning around to rub her soapy hands over his chest.

He has to go to work and she'll never stay through the night so he'll take as much of her as she's willing to give. He'll never push and she'll never say the words, even though he really, really, wants her to.

:::

She calls him one afternoon, just after the new year starts to get stale. She's taken a few days off from work, because her captain suggested (demanded) she does. She gets a lot of those suggestions.

She's sitting at her table, a coffee pot between two cups, one already in her hand. He sits opposite her and just stares, she doesn't mind that so much.

"So, I need to tell you a story," she starts. "It's not a happy story, but you deserve to know. If you love me, then you need to know who I am."

He gets up and comes to sit beside her, pulling the coffee pot to pour some in his cup. "Continue."

She tells Finn everything, she's not sure Mike or Santana know everything, but Finn does now. Because Finn is safe and Finn loves her, scars and all.

He doesn't interrupt. She watches his fingers clench around the bad parts, tears spring to his eyes around the worst parts and a smile spread across his face at the best parts.

"For too long I hid that part of me away that was hurting. I refused to be the victim, and I decided I wouldn't rest until I found the bastard responsible and make him pay. I wanted him to suffer. But the pain in those women's eyes was 10 times worse than how I felt, and I had to help them first. They caught him. He's doing 25 years for every woman he's ever touched. The statute of limitations had run out on my case, but that's not important, because he's behind bars now, and he has no hope of getting out until he's 1475 years old."

She's not too surprised when he pulls her onto his lap, her back to his chest and presses his lips to her neck, right over the scar there. His hand creeps under her shirt and his fingers ghost over the scar he now knows is part of the darkness of her.

"I'm sorry."

She smiles and twists in his arms, wrapping her hands around his neck. "Don't be. I'm not anymore."

She pulls him to the couch, and they lay side by side, talking until they both fall asleep.

He leaves only when he has to go to work, he whispers he'll see her tonight and she kisses him again before falling back asleep.

:::

He's had a long day, body achy and weary and he just wants to sleep. She's lying on the couch when he opens his door, a McKinley t-shirt stretching over her body, black panties peeking out at him. Her hair is loose and messy on the cushions, hands folded under her cheek.

He idly wonders how is it she can always find a way into his locked apartment.

He smiles, walks over and scoops her up then walks to the bedroom, laying her carefully on the bed. He peels his clothes off and when he scoots under the covers beside her, she turns and nestles herself in his arms, her head resting against his chest. He falls asleep with his hand buried in her hair.

He's up before the sun is and she isn't there. He gets up and looks around, trying to listen for her. It's quiet. His heart falls a little because she's not there, as usual.

He walks into the kitchen and she's sitting on top of the counter, legs curled under her as she nurses a cup in her hand.

"Rach."

She looks small, young and innocent, swallowed by his high school t-shirt. She puts the cup down and beckons him over, her palms warm as she presses against him.

"You alright?"

She nods into his chest.

"It's early. Do you have to go into day? Not that I wasn't happy to see you here last night, but…" he trails off, not really wanting to give her an excuse to leave.

She sighs, rests her chin on his chest and looks up at him.

"I want to stay. In bed. All day. With you." She winds her arms around his neck, fingers playing with his hair.

He looks at her, chuckling and she pushes herself up to kiss him, wrapping her legs around his waist. "Bedroom," she whispers against his lips.

"Too far." He lowers her to the ground, his lips tasting everywhere, fingers creeping under her shirt before he drags it up and tosses it aside. No bra. Her skin is hot under his touch; her body is always overheated whenever he touches her. His fingers dance over her body, slipping between her legs and then back to her hips, his thigh nudges hers apart and as he presses into her heat, she shivers, a breathy moan escaping her as she pulls his lips back to hers.

She flips him over onto his back, legs powerful and strong and he's still buried inside her. The sun rising behind her halos her brunette hair, her silhouette glowing as she grinds atop him. She bends over and presses her chest to him, sucking his bottom lip between hers, breath hitching as she unravels above him, breathing the words and his name into her kiss.

"I love you, Finn." Her lips are pressed against his cheek and his hands pull her close to his chest and she keeps whispering as his body falls over the edge, his arms tight around her.

Later, when they finally make it back to the bedroom, she's lying asleep in his arms, his fingers curled around strands of her hair. Her breathing is relaxed, but she's clutching on his shirt tight, like she's afraid he'll leave.

She's not fine, and won't be for a while yet, but he's here, and she's staying, so it's a start.

* * *

**A/N: I need to go write happier fics now.. Reviews please?**

Song is Bon Jovi, _'It's My Life'._


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